


Any Other Tuesday

by sheafrotherdon



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-05
Updated: 2005-06-05
Packaged: 2017-10-11 23:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheafrotherdon/pseuds/sheafrotherdon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He disappears when she turns him down for the sixth time that term.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Any Other Tuesday

He disappears when she turns him down for the sixth time that term.

Almost everyone thinks he's just embarrassed. Sirius drapes an orange towel over his head and makes cutting remarks about James being a fucking pansy, while Peter laughs behind his hand and agrees love has made Prongs a useless git.

Remus makes his excuses - says he's headed to the library. Sirius waves him off with a toss of his make-believe auburn curls and Peter wheezes happily.

He finds him on the sixth-floor landing of the north-west staircase. It's where he found him by accident after snub number four, and by now he knows to look there first. He climbs the steps and watches for a second, crosses the landing and gives James' shoulder a squeeze.

"She'll come around," he says simply, letting his hand drop.

"Yeah," says James, but he sounds unconvinced.

Remus sits on the windowsill and looks out toward the Quidditch pitch. "Ravenclaw?" he asks, as if he hasn't been surrounded by the house colors for most of his life.

"Yeah." James sits down beside him and turns his back on the practice he's been watching. "They still haven't learned to tighten their defenses against a Bimsmidgen formation."

"All the better for us," Remus murmurs, and elbows him gently. He smiles for a moment, then stares at their shoes. His are brown and fairly bloody filthy. James' trainers are even worse.

"I should stop humiliating myself," James mutters, and he's staring straight ahead, eyes focused on the flight of stairs that leads to the seventh floor.

"Pah," says Remus, hitching one shoulder. "She'll come around, I keep telling you."

"Rubbish," James says, defeated.

Remus tilts his head. "She's spent six and a bit years hating you, Prongs. Her dignity needs a little room to get itself in order. She'll say yes before we leave for the holidays."

"I'm not going to ask again," says James, glumly.

"Well that'd be a shame," says Remus, fishing around in the pockets of his robe. "After all, she has plans."

James looks at him. "Plans?" He eyes Remus as if he's addled. "What plans?"

Remus pulls an empty cotton reel from his pocket, a stick of gum, a half-sucked peppermint covered in fluff, a piece of chalk, a knut, two sickles, and a lump of green clay. "Aha," he says, finally able to locate a crumpled up bit of parchment. "Here."

James takes the parchment as if it might explode, which - considering Remus is the one giving it to him - it very well might. He sniffs it suspiciously, which makes Remus laugh, then gradually smoothes it against his thigh.

  
 _Mrs. Lily Evans. Mrs. Lily Evans-Potter. Mrs. Potter-Evans. Mrs. James Potter_.

Remus watches as thirty-seven different reactions stampede across James' face, and isn't remotely surprised when James pulls out his wand. He sits patiently while James casts every anti-glamour, spell-revealing charm he can think of. The parchment stays crumpled and the ink remains unchanged. _Ms. Lily Evans-Potter. Mrs. Potter-Evans._.

James stares at the parchment and the corner of his mouth twitches. He smoothes a thumb over the letters and risks a small smile. "She threw this out?" he asks, and it sounds as if his nonchalance might kill him.

"Yep," says Remus, scratching the back of his neck. "Common-room, yesterday evening." He shrugs. "She was jumpy all night. Knew something was up. And I'm a terrible fucking snoop." He grins at James.

James looks at him and grins back just for a second. He waves the parchment before crumpling it up in his hand. "Girls."

"Girls," nods Remus, and pretends he doesn't notice James slip the parchment into his pocket. He elbows his friend, and James elbows back, and within thirty seconds they're running down the stairs trying to trip each other up and casting aspersions on each other's manhood like it's any other Tuesday.

The seventh time he asks, Lily Evans says yes.


End file.
